Dear Fayerweather Families,

Over the summer, I read Pachinko, by Min Jin Lee. The book lays out a sweeping, multigenerational story about a Korean family living in Osaka, Japan, during Japan’s occupation of Korea. Without giving away details, the novel traces how culture, power, family, and connection shaped ordinary lives. This story prompted some deep reflection about my family's unwilling journey to the United States, and I often have the feeling of, “How did I get here?” especially in light of what my ancestors suffered and endured. This reflection led to a conversation with Charlie, as over the summer, he read his family’s ancestral story written by his mother, which highlighted his family's migration from Ireland to the United States. He, too, tearfully shared his awe of how he got here, given all of the horribleness that ensued, which led his family to leave Ireland to seek a better life in the United States. I find myself weaving together the threads of irony of his family seeking a better life here, my family being forced to come here to provide free labor, and Min Jin Lee’s characters as they land us in Charlie’s office having this conversation. This reminds me that every person in our community carries a story shaped by place, privilege, power, oppression, and possibility.

Turning on the news lately can be challenging. There is so much change happening all at once, I find it challenging to wrap my head around the daily events, both in the US and around the world. I often find myself wondering how to teach current events with my students, particularly when I am having difficulty keeping up not only with what is happening, but how I feel about it all. When events from the outside world come up in class, there is a wide variety of student awareness and interest. Some students are passionately following politics and what is happening, and others never look at the news. I spent a couple of months trying to figure out how to appropriately teach students to be aware of what is going on without introducing my personal beliefs or politics.

When I think back to my first- and second-grade days, my teachers would have said, “Go back and pick that up!” And most likely, we would never been allowed to spread our bodies in the hallway. No floor-measuring fun for us—just rulers and a lot less joy. Reflecting on these two approaches, which way sparks a lifelong love of learning and encourages thoughtful reflection? This is the power of our experiential learning approach–engaging all the senses and amplifying play to hook children into learning a concept like measurement.